Alastor's Harry Potter Shorts
by Alastor Wolfkin
Summary: This is a collection of all of my Harry Potter one-shots. Anyone may use these ideas to write a full story if they let me know and give me credit for my ideas. Enjoy.


**Okay, readers. This is my first published fanfiction, and meant to be one of several (many?) one-shots. If anyone would like to write a full story based on this, please message me to let me know, and give me credit for the original idea.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Cunning and Ambition**

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

"Fawkes, you're amazing." Harry's voice disturbed the gentle staccato of water on the Chamber floor. Although Harry spoke to the phoenix perched lightly on his shoulder, he couldn't help but stare at the carcass of the recently slain basilisk.

"H-Harry?" came Ginny's voice, weak from her recent possession. She lifted herself from the Chamber floor, took one look at the enormous snake, and promptly fainted. That probably should have concerned the raven-haired boy, but he couldn't help but feel relaxed. After all, he had just saved Ginny, defeated Voldemort (and his monster), and he even came out of it alive. It might have been that fact or the phoenix tears coursing through his veins, but Harry was feeling pretty damn good about himself!

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Not ready to return to the hectic world above just yet, Harry looked around the great stone cavern and said to Fawkes, "Well, we might as well take a look around while we're down here." Fawkes' musical cry of assent prompted Harry to stand and make his way over to the behemoth reptile. He carefully reached into its maw and tugged loose the sword he'd used to slay the beast. On wiping it clean, he made a rather shocking discovery: The name '_Godric Gryffindor_', engraved on the blade.

"Wow", was the only thing that came out of Harry's mouth. He shook his head in bemusement, decided to think about it later, and went to retrieve the Sorting Hat from where he had dropped it. "Okay, I think this is all of our stuff."And, as an afterthought, he snagged the ink-stained diary from its place on the ground. Dumbledore would want to see it. But, there was this nagging feeling Harry had: Why would this big, elaborate Chamber be built to hold a _snake_? Maybe Salazar Slytherin hid some ancient _treasure_ down here or something!

And, as Harry wandered aimlessly towards the rear of the Chamber (Fawkes on one shoulder, the Sword resting on the other, with the Hat in his free hand), he began thinking. Not about his usual mundane concerns, like Quidditch or homework, or even Voldemort. No, he was thinking about _why_ he did what he did. Was it like Snape said, was he an attention-seeking brat? No, he certainly didn't run around bragging about his murdering Quirell last year. Was it like Hermione said, did he have a 'saving people thing'? Maybe a bit. But he could always help people without getting directly involved. He could have contacted the police, or whatever their magical equivalent was. No, Harry did it for a simple, almost cliché, reason: He wanted to prove himself, _to_ himself.

He had tried proving himself to his relatives. They only yelled at him and showed him hate. No, Harry learned not to try and prove himself to others. A person didn't need to, as long as they were proud of themselves. And that's what Harry was looking for: Self-respect.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Harry's unusually mature train of thought was interrupted by a discovery. _'Ah, now _here's _something.'_ Harry had stopped in front of a stone door. At least, it could be described as a door in the same way it could be said that the Great Hall had a ceiling. 'Door' didn't quite do it justice. It was ten feet tall, as tall as it could be with the ceiling being where it was. There were engravings all over it, with a humble smattering of green gemstones, marking the door as something significant. But what drew Harry's attention was a hallow spot in the middle of the door. Maybe an inch deep, it looked like some sword-shaped cavity in the stone. As Harry's thoughts trailed off, his eyes turned to the sword slung over his shoulder. '_No way. It couldn't. Could it? Well, Hermione always says that wizards got magic instead of common sense.'_

Harry clumsily held the Sword of Gryffindor and lined it up with the cavity. He pressed it forward, and –_'snick'_. Nothing happened. Harry pulled his hand away, and the sword stayed in the indent. "Well, what am I supposed -?" Harry's question was cut off by a humming sound, coming from the sword. It began glowing with a bright, red light.

With a rumbling sound and a great _'crack'_, the door seemed to split in two, and swing inward, letting the sword fall to the ground. Harry tentatively picked up the sword, steeled his shaken nerves, and strode inward, slightly confident, partially cautious, and mostly curious. What he found added confusion to the alliteration.

The room itself was about the size of a classroom, made of the same bleak stone as the rest of the Chamber. The most glaringly obvious feature of the room he was in was the_ person_. A young man, twenty at oldest, was held in the air by chains on each wrist, attached to the walls, low enough that his feet dragged the floor.

He had shoulder-length dark hair and a pale face, reminding Harry almost fleetingly of Tom Riddle, but somehow almost completely different. The biggest similarity was the look of… nobility, in the man's face. The feature was accentuated by the man's attire. If he were a muggle, the clothes would have been in fashion a few centuries ago, but maybe it was still current for wizards. He had on a ruffled shirt, dark pants, and a black leather trench coat with intricate designs on the shoulders. Maybe not a kingly outfit, but he had some rugged aristocratic air to him.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

'_What the hell is anyone doing down here? Could Riddle have kidnapped people from outside Hogwarts? But why would they be chained up way back here? Did Riddle even _know_ about this room?'_ Aloud, he muttered, "Ugh, too many questions." However, Harry had the feeling that, no matter how long the man had been here, he was alive.

In the interest of working towards answering a few of those questions, Harry decided to examine the _second_ most obvious feature of the room. A stone pedestal stood at waist-height in between the door and the mysterious figure. On the pedestal was a marble sculpture of a cobra, with green gemstones for eyes. With a combination of inspiration and common sense, the twelve-year-old opened his mouth and hissed _"Release him"_.

The cobra sculpture sprang into action immediately, startling Harry into inaction. The formerly inanimate object turned and leapt at the chained figure, opening its mouth to sink its teeth into him. A flash of green light flared as the snake made contact with the man, and the snake vanished. Harry was left gaping for a moment, when the chains binding the man's wrists pulsed once with green energy, before they too vanished, letting the man slump to the ground.

Harry shook himself from his amazement and ran over to the stranger. As Harry turned him over, the man came to life, coughing and hacking like he'd nearly drowned. Harry sat in stunned silence as the man opened dark eyes to look at Harry. _"What is your name?"_ Harry received another shock at the man's use of Parseltongue, but replied in kind, _"H-Harry Potter."_

The man looked him up and down, eyeing the bloodstains and grime coating the young boy. _"You look like shit."_

Harry blinked at this sudden return to normality. _"You don't look to good, either."_ The man's eyes began to droop, and he sagged slightly. Recognizing the sign of fatigue, Harry asked one last question, the _most_ important question,_ "Who are you?"_

As the man's eyes drifted close, he breathed out his answer, _"Salazar Slytherin, at your service."_

* * *

><p>Harry crouched next to the young man, gaping in shock. He hadn't heard wrong, the man had just claimed to be <em>Salazar Slytherin<em>, one of the Hogwarts founders, the most famous Dark wizard in history. '_Actually, I don't think anyone ever said he was _dark_, just against muggleborns…_' But this guy couldn't be Slytherin. '_But, we're talking about _magic_. Is there anything magic _can't _do?_'

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The by now familiar tap of water brought Harry back to reality. Ron was waiting, Ginny was unconscious, and he needed to get out of here. He could worry about who the man was later. Dumbledore would sort it out. Harry, bolstered by Phoenix song provided by Fawkes, pulled one of the man's arms over his shoulder, and carried/dragged him somewhat awkwardly back to the main chamber, where Ginny was still unconscious. Then, Fawkes gave another cry of Song, causing Ginny to begin to stir, while the supposed Salazar shot upright, seemingly completely awake. He was looking around wildly until his eyes landed on Harry, reminding him of his last conscious moments.

"_Right. Harry Potter. Could you tell me the year?_" It was an odd question, but made somewhat sense if he was who he said he was. "_1992._"

"_Oh my. Excuse me Harry, but could I do a bit of magic to help fill in some of the blanks? Just let me-_". With deliberation, giving Harry time to object, the man raised his hand to Harry's forehead and looked into his eyes. Harry just stood there with curiosity and a dash of apprehension, until-

_Pain._

It lasted only a couple of seconds, but it was intense; acute, centered not just on his head, but his _mind_. His life literally flashed before his eyes. Some parts were brought into clearer focus than others, like things he learned about the world in general, muggle and wizard, as well as his lessons learning to read and write. His experiences with Voldemort also came to the forefront.

When the pain vanished, Harry was left clutching his head, hoping it would stop feeling like it was burning up from the inside out. Salazar just stood there in front of Harry, his head lowered, with one hand on his head, as though he had a simple headache. "Sorry about that." He muttered, this time in English. "Hurts more, the more I need to experience. And I've missed rather a lot since my imprisonment. It's the best way to catch up with the times."

"S-so, you really are Salazar Slytherin?" said Harry, between the deep breaths of air he'd been breathing to try and quiet his brain. "You were, what, locked in time or something?"

"Yeah, 'or something'." Salazar replied vaguely. "I've got to say, I didn't expect to be quite this famous. I'm not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, curiosity of the moment driving out more important questions.

"Well, being better than a group who either reject their heritage or can't do anything right is one thing. Picking on people 'cause you've got more inbreeding than them? Completely different." This explanation didn't really answer Harry's question, but he had more pressing things to do right now, anyway. "Umm, we should really see about getting out of here. Err, I guess since you built this place, you'd know a way out, right?"

"Huh? Oh, right!" Salazar glanced around, and his eyes found the dead basilisk. "You _did_ kill him, didn't you? Damn. Took me forever to pick a name for him. Oh well, he attacked you, so it was self-defense. Live and let live, right?" Again, Harry was distracted by an intriguing notion. "What was his name?"

Salazar threw Harry a black look and ignored the question in favor of noticing Ginny. "It looks like your girlfriend's just about awake. And I believe you mentioned something about an exit?"

Harry bit back the automatic 'She's not my girlfriend' that had come to mind immediately, but instead just decided to help the now awake Ginny to her feet. She quickly became hysterical, not even noticing Salazar. She was babbling now, "I'm sorry! –Tom made me! –I'm going to be expelled!" Harry cut her off, to ease both her worries and his still throbbing head. "You're _not_ going to get expelled! I know it wasn't your fault. We'll explain to Dumbledore what happened. Everything's going to be okay." Harry noticed Salazar's face sour at the mention of the Headmaster, but decided to ask later. "Come on, let's go. Ron's waiting back towards the entrance. There was a cave-in, and he's been trying to clear a path back."

The trio (plus Fawkes) headed towards the site of the cave-in, their footsteps clattering loudly on the stone floor. As they approached, they heard Ron's worried voice, "Harry? Is that you? Is Ginny okay?"

"She's fine, Ron", Harry responded, pushing her into Ron's line-of-sight. With a sigh of relief, Ron began helping the group through the hole he'd managed to clear, goggling at Fawkes and the mysterious adult with them. "Who's he?"

"He said-"

"My name isn't important." Salazar interrupted Harry and threw him a meaningful glance. "Err, right. Whatever. I'll tell you later. He was locked down here in one of the rooms off the main chamber."

"Anyway," said Salazar hurriedly, "let's get out of here and back into civilized society, eh? The exit's this way!" He said as he strode off towards the pipe that had led to the girls' bathroom. Salazar led them to the pipe and told Harry, "Try Parseltongue. Ask for stairs or something."

Harry wanted to ask why he didn't do it himself, but supposed he just didn't want the suspicion. Harry could understand that well enough. "Um, _stairs_." With a hiss, the stone pipe seemed to melt and reform into a stone staircase. "Oh. Wish we'd thought of that on the way down."

The group trudged tiredly up the long staircase, with Fawkes gliding up after them, then made their way to the staff lounge, where there was certain to be teachers to notify (Lockhart wandered off in a random direction, and no-one cared enough to stop him). Harry heard muffled voices from the other side of the lounge door, before opening, not bothering to knock.

"Harry, what- GINNY!" Molly Weasley launched herself from her seat next to her husband, Arthur, in order to smother Ginny in a mothers hug. Arthur went to Ginny with more constraint, but equal concern. As they began to worry over their daughter, Harry's attention was drawn to the person sitting across from the Weasley parents.

Albus Dumbledore, complete with twinkling eyes, stood to greet Harry. "Ahh, Harry. I see Mr. Weasley and yourself have managed to recover Ms. Weasley, a feat that requires what none have accomplished in many centuries of trying. Well done! And, who might this man be?" The Headmaster finished with an appraising stare towards Salazar.

"Oh, I just stumbled onto the scene and decided to tag along." Salazar responded curtly, keeping his face neutral. "I should get going." It was obvious that Dumbledore didn't believe Salazar's flimsy reason, but didn't want to make a scene in front of the Weasley's. "I see. Still, I would appreciate it if you would stay awhile, until we get all of the details of this night sorted out." This reasonable request didn't faze Salazar. He simply nodded in acceptance, and stood silently behind Harry.

* * *

><p>It was later on that evening, after Harry had explained everything up until he stabbed the diary, which he'd handed to Dumbledore. The Weasley's had all gone to have 'family time' and Dumbledore had asked Harry to meet him at his office. Salazar had slipped off, saying he needed to visit the library. It didn't concern Harry. After all, Hermione spent lots of time there. Hermione. She was still petrified. Harry immediately decided to take a detour to the Hospital Wing, and tell her the good news, as well as thank her for her help. Not that she could hear it.<p>

Madam Pomfrey was back from making sure Ginny was in reasonably good health, and couldn't say no when Harry asked to talk to Hermione. Again. "We did it, Hermione. Thanks to you, and Fawkes, Ginny is okay. We all made it out okay. And there's this guy I found in a room in the Chamber. He was locked up in there, so I helped him out. He says his name is Salazar Slytherin, as in the founder, and… Hermione, I believe him. Anyway, Dumbledore said the Mandrake Draught will be administered tomorrow, so you can finally wake up. I'll make sure to get your work so you can catch up. Don't need you to come out of a coma, just to have a heart attack from stress. Bye, 'Mione"

As Harry finally made his way to Dumbledore's office, Salazar came striding down the corridor towards him. "Ah, there you are. I was hoping I'd run into you on the way the Headmaster's study." So, the pair made their way to the stone gargoyle. Harry stopped as he realized he didn't know the password. "Umm, Lemon Drop?" Nothing happened, and Salazar just looked at Harry oddly. "Chocolate Frog, Licorice Wand-"

"Charles, could you please move so we could see the Headmaster?" Salazar interrupted Harry's diatribe of sweets, followed by the stone gargoyle animating. With a "Ya" and a salute, the gargoyle stepped out of the way, allowing the duo to pass. Harry was slightly surprised.

"Did that gargoyle have a Russian accent?"

"Well, what'd you expect him to be, French?" Salazar responded like it was the most obvious thing since round wheels. Harry just sighed and followed Salazar to the staircase.

Harry knocked on the door, and was called in with an "Enter" from the aged Headmaster. What was surprising was the figure of Lucius Malfoy, standing I front of Dumbledore's desk, and at his feet was-

"Dobby?" Harry was flabbergasted, partly because Ron was actually _right_ about something for once. Dobby _was_ the Malfoy's house-elf.

Malfoy Senior sent a venomous glare at Dobby that promised violence, and made Dobby cringe.

Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry. "Good evening, again, Harry. Excuse me while I finish my business with Mr. Malfoy. Now, Lucius, aside from my reinstatement, was there anything else you wanted here today?"

"Yes" Lucius sneered, "Have you caught the culprit behind the attacks, yet?"

"Yes, we have" Dumbledore said in a pleased tone.

Mr. Malfoy was losing his cool. "_And?_ Who is it?"

"The same as last time. Except this time, Lord Voldemort chose to act through another. By means of this diary." Dumbledore held the diary up to the light, allowing Lucius to absorb the situation. Meanwhile, Salazar watched dispassionately as Dobby tried to sell out his master behind Lucius' back. Dumbledore, however, proceeded to pour salt into the wound by pointing out _exactly_ how the devious plan had failed, without so much as implying that it was Lucius' doing.

Harry, finally understanding Dobby's actions, decided to confront Lucius like a true Gryffindor. "Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Why should I care how the girl got the blasted thing?" Lucius said harshly.

"You gave it to her," accused Harry. "In Flourish and Blotts. You slipped it into her old Transfiguration book, didn't you?"

Malfoy froze in fury. He leaned forward and hissed, "Prove it."

Dumbeldore interrupted, "oh, there is no chance of that happening, now that Riddle is gone from the book. But I would advise you, Lucius, not to hand out any more of Lord Voldemorts old school things."

Lucius' hand twitched towards his cane, but instead said, "We're leaving, Dobby." Then turned and stormed out of Dumbledore's office, with Dobby scurrying to keep up. Much to Salazar's glee, Harry got a flash of cunning in his eye, and asked, "Professor, can I give that diary _back_ to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly," replied Dumbledore with a smile and a twinkle.

Harry rushed off to do something very Slytherin, if Salazar's instincts were right. He however, stayed behind to have a _chat_ with Harry's Headmaster. "All right Albus. It's time for _my_ story. The short version. I was locked in a room in the Chamber, where I have been for a number of centuries, locked in stasis. As Harry freed me, I owe him a debt that I will do my best to fulfill. Honor demands no less."

Dumbledore nodded, with a frown of unexplained questions on his face.

"The thing is, I think that you aren't acting in Harry's best interests. He trusts you, for now. But, if you step out of line, and consciously put him in danger, I will consider you my enemy, and Harry's enemy. Consider that."

Nodded gravely and spoke, "If you're going to play bodyguard to young Mr. Potter, I should at least know your name, as we both want his safety."

"Friends call me 'Salazar'. Enemies call me 'Slytherin'."

* * *

><p>Salazar left the alarmed Headmaster to his own devices, and went to check on Harry. The boy was standing in the corridor with an ecstatic house-elf, who was holding a grimy sock and singing praises of 'The Great Harry Potter'. It seemed there was hope for the child yet. "Harry."<p>

The overwhelmed twelve-year old turned to Salazar. "Salazar, this is Dobby, a house-elf I helped free. Dobby, this is Salazar."

"A pleasure to meet you, Elf Dobby," Salazar responded cordially, though he didn't feel entirely comfortable around the eccentric creature. It wouldn't do to alienate Harry any.

After the hyperactive elf left, Salazar turned to Harry and said seriously, "We need to talk."

The pair found their way to an empty classroom, where Salazar turned to Harry with a focused expression. "I want to talk to you about something important. But first, you deserve to hear my full story. So, where do you want to begin? And, if you say 'the beginning' I'm going to smack you."

Harry looked bemused. "Let's start with how you got locked up _in your own Chamber_?"

A sour, look appeared on Salazar's face. "My son, Zeus, and my former friend, Godric, combined their efforts to make a nearly unbeatable prison. Our families were officially rivals, so the chances of a Parseltongue speaker bearing the Sword of Gryffindor were slim to none. Hence, the reason I remained down there for so long."

Harry was shocked. "Why would your own _son_ help lock you away?"

"Because," Salazar began in a bitter tone, "I taught him my ambition and cunning, while Godric filled his head with a lot of idealism and turned him against me. I'm not guilt-free, but family is _family_!" Salazar stopped himself and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I haven't really had an opportunity to rant about this for awhile now."

"It's okay. I think that's all I wanted to know for now."

"Alright, then. On to the reason I asked for this talk. I'm just going to lay it out there: I don't trust Albus Dumbledore." Harry was caught off guard. "Why not?"

"In a word? He's manipulative, and not very concerned about other people's problems." Salazar looked convinced.

Harry wasn't. "But he's looked out for me, and fought for muggleborn rights, and…"

"Harry," Salazar cut him off gently, "Where was your Hogwarts letter addressed to?"

Harry was horrified at the obvious answer. "I-It was addressed to… To…"

"To the 'Cupboard Under the Stairs'. Dumbledore knew your home life, and didn't do a _thing_ about it. Hell if I know why, but it's clear he isn't doing the right thing for _you_."

Harry dodged the point by asking, "How did you know about my letter?"

Salazar replied swiftly. "Remember that headache I gave you? That was mind magic. I was scanning your memories. I was focusing on things to help me adapt to the modern world, like the current brand of English, history, and current events. I went to the library to fill in the gaps. You aren't much of a scholar, you know. I found some interesting stuff in that library, including a dictionary. That dictionary had a very specific definition of the word _neglect_. And let me tell you, based on a couple of law books I found, Dumbledore could be put away for _years_ for what he's let you go through."

Harry's shame was overridden by his need to defend his Headmaster's image. "He meant well-"

Salazar wasn't going to let Harry talk Dumbledore out of this. "I've got one word for you: _Dobby_. That little house-elf _meant_ well, sure. But he nearly got you killed and/or expelled out of a misguided notion of what was best for you. Dumbledore is guilty of the _same thing_! Except, where Dobby has learned better, Dumbledore is too used to being the 'Greatest Wizard of the Century' to imagine he could be truly _wrong_ in his methods. Dumbledore is a danger to you, and you can't afford to wait around and find out firsthand."

Harry looked defeated and somewhat brokenhearted. "But, what else can I _do_? He's said that Voldemort isn't gone, and the diary _proved_ that. How am I supposed to survive without Dumbledore's help?"

Salazar gave Harry a determined look. "That's where I come in. I'll tell you the same thing I told Albus: I owe you for freeing me, so I'm going to make sure you survive your inevitable encounters with Voldemort. I can't be around all the time, so the best way to do that is to teach you _everything_ I know. I'd like to be your mentor, your guide to magic." Harry now had a determined look on his face that matched Salazar's. "Well, Harry, what do you say?"

**My inspiration came from reading Toil and trouble, by esama. He didn't have anything with Salazar Slytherin, but I noticed that he was able to use the Chamber of Secrets event itself as an opening for lots of good ideas. Then I got the idea of Mentor!Salazar Slytherin from somewhere, and I ended up with this. The naming of champions from the Goblet of Fire incident is also a good one for open ended plot stuff. If you don't feel like reviewing this story, please check out my other stories from my profile.**


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